Culinary Deathmatch
by The Pokemon Otaku
Summary: A drabble that turned into a one-shot. A test of culinary excellence between the Orochi Scout Cookie and the Supa Secret Curry. What nom will emerge victorious? Read and review, all ye people and demons and deities and whatnots. Rated T for language and err... slightly inappropriate themes. Apologies in advance if crap. My first story, and so I expect jack from it.


**Just something I came up with after reading through a few Okami fics, then having a strange idea that I thought might actually work. So- *clank-clatter-crash-tinkle***

…**.**

**And here I thought they could get the set up without breaking something… Okay, so I've got to get on set as well, so I'll leave the introductions to br to get going.**

…**.**

**That means YOU Line Break!**

**(Line Break: Who what? Me?)**

**Yes you, you're the only one not needed on set, so get going! Disclaimer! Chop chop!**

**(Line Break: *sigh* And I thought Senom was the only one who abused us… Anyways, Orochi Scout Cookies are the sole property of Senom299 of TheCrazyAuthors, used with permission. The Pokemon Otaku himself does not own Okami, Pokemon, aforementioned Orochi Scout Cookies or the Supa Secret Curry ****Bomb. ****Nor does he own the Who Wants to be a Millionaire theme, Portal, nor any of the references he refers to. He does, however, own all his OCs including this incarnation of the br tag, aka me… wonder how my cousin survived under Senom…)**

**Lilac: Meaning he completely lacks creativity and needs to ask my author for ideas he could use.**

**WTF-*kicks Lilac out of A/N* What the hell was she doing here? Not even my own OC… On with the show!**

* * *

…

Okay, so the Imps and Demons are fighting with everyone else in the crowd, Susano and Nagi are getting drunk,

What, the cameras are rolling?

Umm… *points to random character* You! Introduction!

(Line Break: Why always me? *sigh* shuffles over to microphone)

Ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages and species! Welcome to CULINARY DEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATHMAAAAAAAAAAAAAATCH!

And now, introducing the host, our resident borderline psychopath, Pokémon Otaku and not-very-originally-named-or-quite-so-friendly author, The Pokémon Otaku!

Part of the set swivelled around to smack out the author onto the front of the stage, who somehow defied gravity for a few seconds and flew over 10 feet in the air, screaming "Everybody do the flop!" before coming to rest on the stage. On his face.

" Hello Fanfiction, I'm your MC The Pokémon Otaku, and I'm your host for today's episode of…"

"CULINARY DEAAAAATHMAAAATCH!" the entire studio audience screamed.

By the time the scattered set, shattered cameras and mashed-up microphones were replaced, paramedics had gotten the MC conscious and assured him there was only a 42.42% chance of permanent hearing loss, and he staggered back onto the stage.

"Welcome, all! Today we have esteemed guests in the studio audience, all three generations of the Okami clan, the Okamis Shiranui, temporarily revived with abuse of author powers, Amaterasu and Chibiterasu! Could you guys make yourselves seen to our viewers?"

The cameras focused on the gods and goddess, for once in their human forms and waving to the cameras, drawing out whistles of appreciation and squeals of fangirl delight alike.

"Today we have a face-off of the likes which have never been seen before or since! In the red corner, brought to you today by Lilac, OC of Operation ALBN, we have the infamous OROCHI SCOUT COOKIE!"

A collective "Oooh" resounded throughout the audience as a red tablecloth was removed to reveal a platter of COMPLETELY HARMLESS cookies, stolen fresh from the oven, of varying colours, shape and size.

"These cookies look completely harmless, don't they? The type that you wouldn't think twice before putting in your children's lunchboxes or Fan Menu, now do they? But there are more to these cookies than meets the eye. But a challenger to this culinary sensation awaits! Introducing, in the blue corner, Ihtishaam's Supa Secret Curry!"

The audiences' eyes turned as one to the other corner of the room, where a blue tablecloth was pulled off to reveal a steaming plate of curry, the chunks of meat and veggies resting comfortably with the jasmine rice it shared a plate with.

"A recipe forged under DAYS of experimentation, the secret family recipe handed down to generation after generation, the origins which have been lost somewhere under the streets of Kolkata or Calcutta, however the heck you might want to pronounce it, but one thing's the same. This is one heck of a curry, in more ways than one."

The camera panned around the studio audience, most of them staring at either or both dishes, some of them (not naming specific species or deities here) quite literally drooling with their jaws dropped, saliva dripping down onto the seat in front of them, causing more than one fight in several sections of the crowd. The author smirked secretly. Everything was going according to plan.

"But what is the point of having food if you cannot eat it? You know the tickets you were given for no apparent reason as you came in, right?"

There came a general noise of nods, "yes," "yup," mixed in with "what?" "No," "I told you we should have kept them!" and one "I thought it was a cookie…"

"Well those tickets were your entry as a judge on today's eight-creature panel! If I may ask entries BT5X, E4Z1, SH1+, 3141, RN34, NZAB, 9001 and EGR469, because you're our judges for today!"

As soon as each number was called out there was a general scramble of checking own ticket, checking someone else's ticket, and beating said someone else to a pulp to try to get their ticket if they had the matching code. All this as the cameras were running and the author taking 'notes' down for his personal use.

Line Break must interrupt with this breaking news: At an undisclosed time in a studio at an undisclosed location, there was a brawl of epic proportions where injuries totalled 76 broken bones, 12 'accidently' exorcised Imps and Demons, 369 unrepeatable swear words, 33 feet and 34 tails trod on (some of them more than once). Filming proceeded as normal after the carnage was cleaned up. Now back to our regular scheduled programming.

Later, the audience had fallen back into a SOMEWHAT calmer state, and the eight overpowered lucky chosen were on stage.

"And now we have our chosen ones! We have: The former Demon Lord Ninetails, revived with abuse of author powers, Amaterasu the Ninetales, nine-to-fifteen times great granddaughter of her namesake, here with her trainer, Sakuya the wood sprite, Issun the bug-slash-perverted Poncle-"

"Hey!" An (ignored) voice came from the ground, which threw a sword into the author's feet. It doesn't affect wild Author…

"-Verene the Espeon, here with her trainer-"

As soon as the MC's back had turned, said Espeon winked seductively at said trainer, earning a blush from him and a furious glare from one particular Ninetales.

"-this Old Green Imp, who somehow managed to get here COMPLETELY unscathed," the MC moved on, somehow conveniently missing the 6ft butcher knife that stuck out from the Imp's back.

"The half-baked fruitcake of a prophet, Waka of the Moon Tribe-" the description was greeted with applause from somewhere on the floor. It was summarily ignored. "-whose relationship with Okami Amaterasu is still yet not quite clearly known-" the MC/author glared up at the blond-haired man, who simply stared back, while said goddess squirmed in her seat under the eyes of everyone in the studio.

"-and finally, Oki of the Oina." A glint reflected off the artificial lighting led the MC's eyes trailed to Oki's belt, and scowled as he saw what was on it. "Who happens to be carrying a weapon when I CLEARLY requested all weapons that are not classified as a Divine Instrument given to the security guards for safekeeping-" For indeed, Oki had Kutone by his side, stained with demon blood yet again. WHY exactly he even had Kutone again in the first place, or why it had demon blood on it, no-one not named Oki would ever know. Anyone still alive, anyway.

The Pokémon Otaku sighed. "Why do I even bother…" Regaining his composure he faced the audience. "Now normally I'd let them test each dish out separately with time in between but due to the volatile nature of our samples today and the fact that I can simply not be stuffed writing it all down-" Somewhere in the background, the fourth wall, already on its last legs, crumbled to the floor entirely in slow motion at full 1080p HD, although why it was standing in the first place when the author himself was in the fic was beyond all logic and NOT TO BE QUESTIONED. Those nearest to it "ooohed" as it dropped to the floor. Ignoring the dramatic collapse of the fourth wall, the MC continued, "-Ninetails, Ninetales, Green Imp and Waka, the four of you will be tasting the Orochi Scout Cookies, whilst Oki, Verene, Sakuya and the bug-"

"It's Issun, Ammy damn it!"

"-will have the honour of sampling the Supa Secret Curry. And before I forget to mention-the two categories the eight of you will be consciously comparing are presentation and taste. The third you will find out later."

"So what is the third then?" Verene asked.

"You'll find out later, like I said. Did I mention the fastest eater gets a limited-edition Okami-trim G11, usable on mortals and demons and Celestials alike, your ultimate multi-purpose weapon in a fight!"

"Until it runs out of ammo…" Issun muttered. Again, he was IGNORED.

"You have five minutes to analyse presentation, starting in ten… nine… bah! Who's counting? Go!"

All eight ran to their tables with no amount of slipping, treading on feet and tails, cursing both in and against the gods' names, and started staring intently at their respective subjects.

The MC jaunted over to the 'Cookie' table.

"Now again, with abuse of author powers, I have created a one-way sound barrier out of thin air. You lot can hear what I'm saying… but they can't." he addressed the audience and glanced back at the table. On the studio screen, both kitsune and kitsune-based-Pokémon were sniffing at the cookies, eyes wide with desire to grab dem cookies and get the hell outta there.

"Orochi Scout Cookies HAVE been declared fit for human consumption, but that means jack all nothing in a world without any food safety authorities! But who gives a crap, they still taste freaking awesome! Apparently!" The MC declared proudly, flashing an impossibly wide smile bright enough to send the Zubats squealing away.* "Side effects include, but are not, repeat NOT, limited to-" The MC took in a massive breath.

"Vomiting, scorching any part of the digestive/respiratory systems, including the appendix, food poisoning, blood poisoning, headaches, dizziness, diarrhoea, bloating, erectile dysfunction, aphrodisiac effects – wait, what?" With a dafuq on his face, the MC looked over to the producers, who looked just as WTF as he was. In the audience, someone noticably gulped. "Ooooookeeeey…. Where was I? Oh yes, death, demonic possession, and others which have not been discovered and are too lazy to investigate fully!" A massive "BOOOO!" was heard from the crowd.

The Pokémon Otaku's eyes narrowed from just-slightly-ajar to keyhole. And all of a sudden his voice changed to GlaDOS. "Well if you morons are so interested why don't YOU go and investigate them yourself? It'll ONLY take a couple million of funding to get started, so why don't you? "

The crowd shut up. Ammy and Chibi searched through their moneybags to see just how much money they had amassed during their respective journeys.

"In DOLLARS, not yen!" The Pokémon Otaku facepalmed. Normally when stuck like this he would have just broken the fourth wall and reset the scene to a few minutes ahead, but he couldn't because of the stupid bloody cameras recording him. Oh wait… he could. A trollface appeared on ThePokemonOtaku's face.

"INITIATING Minitrue!" he yelled. (1)

And the entire events of the past quarter-page were immediately wiped from everyone's minds, replaced by cake.

"Now on this side we have Ihtishaam's Supa Secret Curry Bomb, more commonly known to you all as the Supa Secret Curry!" The MC announced, sanity now fully restored to full health.

The MC waved a hand at the four doomed lucky judges. The camera angle switched to the four judges, all of whom were examining the curry like it was something that had fallen from the skies. Oki was a wolf, sniffing all over the curry, Verene looked like she was trying to have an intelligent telepathic conversation with the ingredients, and Sakuya and the bug ("Issun, Ammy dammit!") was… staring…. At the curry...

"Born in the slums of Kolkata, this curry was invented by long-dead people, who spent DAYS investigating the cheapest ways to make curry without causing enough diarrhoea to require quarantine of the city. Declared as a chemical weapon in 65 nations, including Syria and North Korea, and as a weapon of mass destruction in 9, including the good ol' US of A, and – you guessed it – North Korea! No-one knows the exact recipe, as it is a family secret, but rest assured, it should be somewhat safe for human consumption! The definition of 'safe' includes the following side effects: Diarrhoea, disintegration of internal organs, something listed as 'green slime' which shall not be explained, instant TM35, spontaneous combustion, and several death wishes, most of them involving the Antarctic! How fun, ae?" The Pokemo nOtaku looked up, a sadistic grin evident to all. A third of the crowd was now officially worried about the 'judges.' Another third had reached for their long-range communication devices, only to find out coverage did not extend to this area regardless of network. And the final third bore the same sadistic grins on their faces, and some also had multi-purpose long-range communication devices out, but for very different reasons.

"But it seems like we've kept the judges hungry for too long!" The MC gestured for the metaphysic author to lift the soundproofing. "Judges, step away from the food!"

The eight different creatures grudgingly moved away, after no amount of grumbling and complaining.

"When we get back, you'll finally see our dear judges taste what they've had in their faces for the best part of 660 words, we'll see you right after the break."

Line Break: So what, am I the commercial break as well now?

The producer made a 'go' motion with his hands. All around the set, props started moving, people and other sentient creatures moved on and off the stage, cutlery and other assorted eating utensils were laid out, and the MC totted off with a toolkit of literary tools, off to fix the severely-abused fourth wall.

Line Break: Since the author has decided he would rather go off to patch the fourth wall rather than entertain you, here're some commercials!

* * *

Got some demons? Prayers, exorcisms, nothing seems to work? Then in call the Demonbusters! The top demon-killing family operated business in Nippon or the Celestial Plain, with Reflectors, Rosaries, Glaives, Providence Crystals and Exorcism Slip L's, our Divine Instruments are second to none when it comes to demonic extermination! And we'll do it for nothing more than a good feed!

AgoodfeedisdeterminedbytheamountoffoodthattheOkami soncalloutcaneatatanyonetimetheymustbefedfullyorel sethewaivetherighttoallhis/her/theirproperty/money /etcwhatevercanbeeatenorused/soldtopayoffthefoodde bt. Bycallingusthecustomeragreestowaiveallrightstosueo rwithholdPraiseinregardstobankruptcyoranyotherfina ncialissues. Seetermsandconditionsforfulldetails.

Still plagued? What are you waiting for? Call now!

Do regular adventures bore you? Want something more than simple frostbite to very sensitive places in the ice of Kamui, lightning strikes in northern Shinshu Field, or the polluted air of Sei-An? Then join us for an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity on board the Sunken Ship! Known as the Goryeo, this ship has nooks and crannies to explore, as well as scares aplenty guaranteed to delight the whole family! So if you're in for more than a simply holiday or adventure, book a trip on New Ghost Tours now!

Thetourcompanytakesnoresponsibilityfordeathinjuryo utofbodyexperiencesresultingfromthistour. Injuriesincludebutarenotlimitedto:flattenedbyamass ivehanddrowningorhavingyoursoulsuckedfromyourbodyb yvengefulghosts.

Places are limited, so book your spot early to avoid disappointment!

* * *

Line Break: Okay, so they're done with the set… I think… hey, author, you ready yet?

Don't call me author, damn you! I'm a character today so shut up shutupshutupshutup

Line Break: Yeah, they're ready. Dah, dah, da, da dah da dah daaaaaaahhhhhhhh~

The cameras focused back on the MC with a flourish. "And welcome back! We've had some ah, issues with the sound department, we do NOT normally play the Who Wants to be a Millionaire theme in the studio! But completely irrelevantly, we can see that our judges are now eager to get started – and no wonder, since we've been starving them for the best part of over 1000 words. Now remember, although this IS a speed eating comp, you do have to grade it on taste as well. Okee?" Everyone nodded. "Take your marks…" The Pokemon Otaku held up a siren.

BEEP!

"And they're off! Oki's turned wolf, this is serious! The two Pokémon are just filling their faces – wait, Ninetails isn't that far off either – Ah come on, you fruitcake, screw your image, win for Ammy – yeah, there you go bruvva, shove 'em into your face! HEY! Sakuya, using roots is cheating! Put them away… that's better… and the bug has buried himself!"

Issun yelled something muffled from the depths of the curry. Whether it was a cry for help or something else, no-one heard and no-one cared.

"To declare yourselves the winner, show me a clean plate, can you all hear?" Somehow, each creature found enough room between the plates and their faces to nod.

"This is close; it's still anyone's game, ETA ten seconds until the first finish-"

The crash of fist breaking through wood resounded through the studio as Oki slammed his fist onto the table and raised a plate in the air.

"Aaanndd…. It's OK! Oki wins the speed eating Deathmatch!"

"YAAAAAAARRRRGGHHHHH!" Oki yelled. And he promptly threw the plate onto the floor.

Smash! Tinkle, tinkle. The rest of the contestants stared.

The MC made a 'well?' gesture with his hands. "Are you quite sure you'd like to be the last to finish?"

Everyone promptly went straight back to swallowing food as fast as it entered their mouths. And as writing it out would have been too boring, both for the author and the reader(s), it cut to a montage! :3

Line Break: Feel free to input your own epic voices, folks!

"In Second Place: Green Imp!" He promptly cut the plate in half with the butcher knife in his back.

"Third Place: Amaterasu the Ninetales," who crushed the plate using Iron Coffin. (2)

"A fraction of a second behind, in Fourth Place: Verene the Espeon!" Using telekinesis, she flung the plate at Amaterasu in disgust, which she duly shattered with an Iron Tail.

"In Fifth Place: Ninetails!" In her typical fashion, she blew up the plate with a Cherry Bomb.

"Sixth Place: Waka the fruitcake."

"This one's for you, _ma cherie!_" he yelled.

"In Seventh Place: Sakuya." Much to the crowd and MC's disappointment, she did absolutely nothing in the way of _raeg_ or celebration.

"And in the epic failure basket of LAST PLACE: Issun!"

"No fair! They had a size advantage!" he whined.

Line Break: Ok, montage over. Can we get back to the main action now?

"Congratulations, Oki! For winning the Deathmatch of Speed, you have won yourself a limited-edition Okami trim G11 assault rifle!"

Oki stepped onto the podium, and took the G11 with a nod of thanks.

"Now I shouldn't really be asking this, but who would be the first to feel the wrath of this weapon so overpowered, it was actually restricted in COD?"

Oki didn't open his mouth, but his gaze scanned the audience….

Moving very slowly…

Before resting on two mechanical owls, who gulped at the sight of the overpowered weapon in the hands of someone who most likely, wanted to kill them very painfully.

"Is that so? Now, I did mention a second category, do you all remember?"

All of them nodded except Waka, who took an Iron Tail to the knee before he recovered his wits enough to nod.

"As a matter of fact, you're being judged on it now. Write down your score from seed to blossom, and let judging for the second round commence!" The MC pressed the start button on a random stopwatch he had procured out of nowhere. Beep.

All eight exchanged WTF looks before scribbling down their scores.

"And the scores are: Orochi Scout Cookie: Blossoms, dead tree, green tree, green tree. Supa Secret Curry: Blossoms, dead tree, blossoms, dead tree."

There was an awkward silence as seemingly nothing happened after the score announcement.

Wait for it… The MC thought. Come on, hold on for time….

And without warning Oki sprinted off.

"Where-"

"BATHROOM!" Oki yelled as he took off.

Beep. "Nineteen seconds!"

BOOM. An explosion echoed through the area where the bathrooms were. The MC blanched. "I ain't cleaning that up."

"Oh crap-" Amaterasu and Verene ran off at the same time.

Beep. "Twenty-four!" The wet _squelch_ of what was almost certainly diarrhoea was audible from across two different studios.

Almost immediately afterwards Sakuya ran/floated off to the women's restrooms. "Twenty-five. I'm amazed she hasn't dissolved by now actually, I heard that curry's used as an herbicide in-"

"I'M MELTING! I'M MEEELLLTING!" A very high-pitched scream cut The MC off.

"Well then, I stand corrected!" The author exclaimed with a much-too-happy face.

"Out of the way!" Ninetails bowled the MC clean over ("Twenty-nine!"), with a very green-looking – correction, _sickly_ green-looking Issun hanging onto her fur.

"Shake off the bug before the women's rooms!" The MC yelled, picking himself up.

"I'll just… you know, head off now…" Waka slowly floated off.

The MC sighed. "This isn't pre-Gen Four, you're allowed to run in-"

Where Waka was just point-five seconds ago, there was now a dust cloud of his silhouette.

"Doors…" the MC checked his watch yet again. "Thirty-tree." He muttered with a deliberately bad Asian accent. He turned to the Green Imp, who was watching everyone run off to the bathroom. "How come you're still here?"

"I'm an imp, remember? I bake and sell those cookies for a living, mate. Literally."

"Oh… hmm, this is an interesting situation-"

And very impassioned voices screamed down from the corridor.

"He's mine!"

"Hell no, I was with him first!"

"My claim!"

"My trainer!"

A furred mess of violet and yellow fur streaked across the stage, _presumably_ biting and scratching each other, from the movements and sounds… but one never could be too sure.

The MC moved in. "Hey now," he started, picking them up by the backs of their respective necks, holding them apart. "No fighting on set, afterwards, I don't care, but come on, we're still on air!"

The two Pokémon stopped going for each other's throats. Their gaze turned to their captor, then back to each other.

"We can settle this later." Amaterasu said.

"Guess so, back in our own storyline." Verene concurred.

"Shared for now?"

Verene sighed. "Guess so."

"Deal?"

"Deal."

The two Pokémon stared at each other for a few more seconds. Then as if by pre-arrangement, both of them turned to stare at their trainer.

Said trainer slowly stood up, and just as slowly, moved towards the exit.

The MC finally understood the side-effect that not even the producers understood. He kept the two artificially lust-stricken Pokémon in his hold for a little longer. And by 'a little,' two seconds.

"AAAAARRRGGGHHHH!" Pokémon Trainer fled!

"Come back, master!" Verene called with a flirty tone obvious in her voice, chasing after her trainer's fleeing footsteps.

"Yeah, we only want to have some _fun!_" Amaterasu added with a much-too-innocent giggle, following the Espeon closely.

The MC watched them go. So did the audience. Then he looked at his watch/word counter.

"Oh, but we're all out of time, it's definitely not that the author cannot be bothered writing more. Which culinary masterpiece won? You decide! The judges' rulings can be found in the author's notes, we'll be right back next time; fingers TOTALLY not crossed, and remember, if you get it on tape, you DON'T get it, in cash. Goodnight, everyone."

**-Backstage-**

**How you regular writers do this, I have no idea. This was only just over 3600 words, not including the author's notes, and yet some of you guys do it on a regular basis. I applaud you people.**

**I probably will never do a fic in this style again; it's just not natural for me… **

**Those of you pissed off/horrified about the last few lines, Pokémon are sentient creatures, proven by manga, anime and games alike, they can bloody hell have a relationship with whoever the hell they want. Besides, I needed a random finisher.**

**Anyways, review folks, it's the only way I'll even remotely be able to improve my writing into something that the majority of you might want to read! The Pokémon Otaku, signing off. **

**Marked notes: (Fanfiction wouldn't let me superscript. Bum.)**

***You wish.**

**(1)**** the Newspeak abbreviation of Ministry of Truth, the ministry responsible in the book Nineteen Eighty-Four responsible for changing the past and present of what the people were told by the government. If you still don't understand just read Nineteen Eighty-Four.**

**(2)**** A move in where a Ninetales would call up Iron Tail for all nine of its tails, then grab their target and crush them in said Iron Tails. Similar to Gaara's Coffin of Crushing Sand from Naruto.**


End file.
